


what does home feel like?

by clearifying



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017) RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff I think, I wrote this in like thirty minutes okay, Short Drabble, if you don’t like rpf I would avoid, is this weird I hope it’s not weird, second person’s pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 02:25:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15764688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearifying/pseuds/clearifying
Summary: Love at first sight, explored.





	what does home feel like?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello my loves, I understand that RPF isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but this was never written with the intention of being harmful or disrespectful. This has been concocted, written in less than an hour, purely out of my own imagination, a head-canon if you must, with inspiration from small, real life events that has been shared with us. I absolutely adore their relationship and tried to keep it as respectful as I can. Hopefully, this didn’t make you cringe.  
> Also, paperlesscrown’s style of writing majorly inspired me in this piece. She is an absolute goddess when it comes to words and we are all lucky to experience them.  
> Enjoy. Get some popcorn. Feel free to come find me on Twitter!

When I met you, I knew immediately that I wanted the softness of your skin to be forever embedded into my memory.

At first I thought it had been nothing more than mere physical attraction. Growing up in the industry, surrounded by people who looked like a ten even on a bad day, it was hard not to experience that feeling.

I was familiar with that feeling.

What I didn’t expect was the the coy spark in your eyes, the colour of grass on a bright Spring’s day, to pull me in. I was completely raptured by you and what was the essence of you from the moment I met you.

 

I had confessed to you, late one night, when we were intertwined with the blankets on the couch, that I fell in love with you at first sight.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled with a shake of your head, “Stop being ridiculous Cole.”

Yet, even though I pretended to not notice, I stored the image of the red that stained your cheeks into the back of my mind with the rest of the colours you had shown me.

 

If someone had asked you, you would say that the first time you saw me was in the small audition room with my back turned, closed off to the rest of the world. Though, if someone had asked me instead, I would recite another day instead.

That day, I barely saw myself. Grasping at fragments of who I was before leaving the industry, and who I was after leaving the industry, to mould into a version of myself that I hadn’t familiarised myself with. In that moment, my ending goal, and sight, was the papers stained with words in my hands.

The same words that would ultimately lead me back to you, so that you were no longer a dream of floral perfume and a flash blonde locks that walked past me in the hallway, but instead a reality.

 

Soon enough, your path and mine, it became intertwined. I had fallen deeply, before I even realised I had fallen. It was after the casting had been announced. It was after the banter that was exchanged back and forth between us, that had birthed from one simple message of congratulations over Twitter.

I was hesitant that when we met in person, the connection we had formed would disburse into nothing but awkward silence.

But instead, it was the completely opposite.

 _God_ , it was so much more than what I had imagined. With every witty jest of sarcasm that you replied with to my own teasing comments, I had found myself in a complete state of admiration for you.

You were _fire_.

In that moment, I knew that the tight casing around my heart that I had kept, had scrambled to dust with the sound of your laugh. I was already burnt by you, before your touch even grazed my skin.

 

And it was no surprise, just disappointment, when someone told me that you were already in a relationship.

“They’ve been dating for two years I think?” Madelaine hummed. “Why’d you ask?” She raised an eyebrow.

I had shrugged and said nothing more than, “I was just curious.” But in my mind, I knew that there was only a slim chance someone like you would be single. Any bastard that was lucky to have you would have been foolish to let you go easily.

 

I was always respectful of your relationship. Never wanting to be the reason you had to choose. Though, I never let this impact the friendship between us that had submerged. We still spent Friday nights at movie theatres or museums. On certain weekends you would come over to play with the cats. Soon enough, my friends became your friends.

My adoration for you was obvious from the start, as some would point out to me. Often I would deny it or brush it off, never daring to cross lines. You meant so much to me, that the fear of losing you became unbearable, and to have you in my life in whatever way it may be, became more important to me than my own emotions. I could’ve live with never knowing what your limbs tangled with my own felt like, but I could’ve never live a life without you in it. Not anymore.

Instead I fuelled my feelings into my work. Into my photography. Still you were imprinted in the back of my mind like a tattoo. And when you called me at two in the morning and told me how things ended between you and your boyfriend, I guess by then your _ex_ -boyfriend, I was there. I listened to your breathing over the phone, waiting until it went from strained gasps to soft, mellow sounds of slumber.

 

I was cautious. For the first time, you and I were both available but you had just come out of a relationship, and the last thing that I wanted, was to overwhelm you. I knew that what we had before was a friendship. But then? I had no fucking clue. I felt like a teenager with a silly crush again, desperate for guidance.

And when you kissed me for the first time, I felt alive. You had pulled me out, before I myself, realised that I had been drowning in the first place. Your lips against mine was like the gasp of fresh air I needed. 

To feel reborn.

To be reborn, with you. 

 

So when someone asks when I knew I loved you, I would say that I always loved you.

There isn’t another weekend I can imagine anymore without the sound of your sweet humming, lilting through the air on a Sunday morning while you attempted to make pancakes. There isn’t a world before you, because now all I knew is a world with you in it. And I didn’t want be anywhere else, other than here. With the tenderness of your cheek pressed against my bare chest. Or on the couch, with your feet in my lap while we watched old rom-coms that I know you love. Tracing the moles on your body with my fingertips.

You felt like coming home.

 

 

 _Fin_.


End file.
